They had arrived half an hour earlier but did not dare to go inside the building. Integra was sitting on the corner of a café, observing if a young couple entered, just to make sure they would come and this was not a trap. The streets, even during day, were deserted. She wondered how many people had died already trapped in the crossfire of a battle that was beyond their level of understanding.
One she hated to be kept in the dark about.
“Those must be them,” Integral said, finishing her tea and setting down the tip for the waitress. “Let’s move, Alucard.” She followed them, ten minutes after they made their ways in their library. Instead of a complete suit, she was wearing a white shirt and a pair of black trousers, red cravat still perfectly wrapping her collar – silver cross pin resting on the middle. The Californian weather made impossible to stand a full blazer as she wore in London. She held a suitcase on her right hand, and finished to put out her cigar with her left one. Integral was an extremely tall young woman who towered most of those her gender, even several shorter men, who stood stoically with tanned skin framed by frosty eyes and very long and very fair blonde hair at the entrance of the paranormal section.
“Good afternoon. Are you Aubrey and Miss Caryn?” she asked in a businesslike, coolly voice.